Butt Call

Acts 1:15-26, John 17:6-19

I got a “butt call” from my daughter, Erin. Actually, I think that the culprit was one year-old Janie who might have grabbed the iPhone out of her mother’s bag and pressed a quick dial function. I’m not sure about that, but entirely possible.

This is called a butt-call because it is often made because the cell phone is in the back pocket and somehow the screen performs the quick-dial function and makes the call.

In this case, I listened for as long as it was comfortable. It was like listtening in to their morning life. I yelled several times “HELLO”!  But there was no response. Luckily I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, but it felt totally intimate. Marcos was talking with his mom and one year old Janie was just jabbering in the background and, as pleasant as it was to listen in to their life, I felt like I was spying on them.  So I hung up.

Here , in this Gospel lesson, we have an intimate conversation with Jesus and his Father. We’re eavesdropping aren’t we? We’re eavesdropping on a heavenly conversation between Jesus and His Father:

But now I am coming to you, and I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. ¹⁴I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world.

Let’s remember the night in which this prayer took place.

This is the night of betrayal and hopelessness. This prayer is, in a certain way, Jesus’ last will and testament. This is it,

Father. I’ve done all I can and I pray that you will give Peter and John and James, Mary and the others all that they need to be about the witness they have been called to.

There is a feel to this final prayer that it all could fail, isn’t there? Behind this prayer is that this is a risky venture and the hope of all the world is in balance.

Jesus is turning things over to his own beloved and by implication is turning things over to us.

And I get the sense at least, that this is an enormously risky business.

A lot is at stake here.

Jesus said, “I am coming to you. I’m leaving here and I pray that you will give them all that they need to do the work I have begun.” Can Jesus trust entirely that this will happen? He is investing all that he is and was to this human enterprise. It’s a risky business at best.

Let’s look at the context of this risky prayer.

John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. A really shocking thing to do for the rabbi to wash his followers’ feet.

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

Jesus says: “If you do not let me wash your feet, you shall have no part in me.”

He washes Peter’s feet much to Peter’s chagrin and then says that we all should wash each other’s feet. Wash each other’s feet? Maybe in first century Judaism, but in 21^st century America?

In the youth mission trips that we have been going on in these many years, we end the trip with foot washings. Always a risky business. At the end of the week the young adult leaders of YouthWorks wash the feet of the adult leaders of each church youth group at the mission. Then each adult moves from one set of feet of our youth to another washing their feet. It is always the most moving experience of my ministry.

Then, Jesus predicts his betrayal by Judas.

And then he predicts Peter’s denial. “Lord, I will lay down my life for you.”

Well, maybe not.

Then the tone shifts. Jesus comforts his loved ones. He’s already laid out how difficult it will all be. Now, he needs to say that he and his father will be with them to the end.

John 14: Let not your hearts be troubled.

I am the way and the truth and the light. Follow my way, and I will be with you.

Jesus then promises the disciples (and us) that the Holy Spirit who will come.

“I will not leave you as orphans… But in a little while, I will be with you.”

“Where you love one another, I will be there.”

But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

I am the vine and you are the branches.

 And you also must testify, for you have been with me from the beginning.

And here is the hook to the story from the book of Acts, chapter 1.

The first Crisis in the Church.

Judas has died, perhaps committed suicide, the record is not clear. The Medical examiner is still examining the details.

But there is a vacancy and how shall we fill it?

So they did a congregational self-study. You have done that before haven’t you?

A congregational self-study in preparation for new pastoral leadership.

It’s painful.

The congregation of the earliest church have measured their strengths and weaknesses (trying to be honest about both strengths and weaknesses).

They thought about what they needed in their replacement of Judas.

They asked for references for each of their candidates.

The first questions was, “Were you there from the baptism of Jesus to his crucifixion?” [check]

“Were you there at the cross itself” [well maybe not, they couldn’t find anyone with the appropriate moxie to be there]

“Did you deny our friend Jesus when others asked whether or not you knew him?”

“Oh, yeah, I know Peter, our CEO didn’t do well on that score. So, if you weren’t there on that one, I guess we can let it go”

Uh, were you there for the feeding of the 5000? Did you understand how that was done? No? Neither did we. [check]

So, in frustration, they had the position referred to an executive search agnecy.

They did the appropriate background checks.

They scored each candidate according to their ability to get new members,

their ability to preach powerful and redeeming sermons,

their qualifications regarding the healing of the sick,

and all came up short. Desperately short.

There were many who were around Jesus from his baptism to his crucifixion

Many more than I would have imagined as a simple reader of the Gospel accounts,

but all had one thing or another in their background check that made them look bad in one way or another.  Discounted them in one way or another.

The disciples were running out of time.

They were down to just two candidates: Joseph called Barsabbas (also known as Justus) and Matthias.

Those of us latter day saints who read the accounts in the Gospels have not heard of these two men. Did we miss these guys in the enumeration of all the friends of Jesus? I’m sure they were at the baptism and at the crucifixion, but we just have to take Luke’s word of this in his accounting in his telling of the book of Acts.

Let me go out on a limb here and say that they were as fault-filled as the rest of them. Or perhaps I should say, they were as fault-filled as the rest of us.

But they were all found to be as qualified as it gets.

Joe and Matt.

They both had their GED.

They both had done some apprenticeship in either fishing or accounting or carpentry. They could contribute something to the common life of this risky adventure that they were all beginning.

So there they were. Joe and Matt.

Both good guys to be sure. Or at least as good as guys were in these difficult post-crucifixion, post-resurrection times. All had failed, but these two had the minimum requirements. They were with Jesus from baptism to his ascension into heaven.

None of them, not the 11 nor any of the others who were there, could be said to understand any of what had taken place, but at least these two were there through it all.

And that’s all the requirements that were needed.

“Being there” seems to be all that was required.

The portfolios of Joe and Matt just read, “We were witnesses of these things from baptism to the ascension.”

Neither of them had to write a “blue book” essay explaining what it meant.

No multiple choice questions as I like to construct for my Confirmands.

They just had to “Be there.”

That has ever how it has been.

Moses wasn’t great at speach, but he was chosen.

Aaron, Moses’ brother, agreed to the fashioning of the golden calf, but he was a great speaker. Oh, well.

Peter, well, Peter was an exceptional case. What a hot mess he was. Said he would be there through thick and thin and wasn’t even there through thin.

So here it is:

God never calls the ones who are handsome or experienced or have a proven track record of any real sort.

God never calls the ones with advanced degrees in theology or computer sciences.

God calls ordinary people to do God’s extraordinary work.

Oh, dear Lord, let me say this again:

God calls ordinary people to do God’s extraordinary work.

God doesn’t call the qualified. God qualifies the called.

God doesn’t call the qualified. God qualifies the called.

And God calls by some mystical process of drawing straws.

And Matthias is the one.

And then we never hear from him again.

The uncalled ones, Phillip and Stephen, are the first deacons and they get a real play in the on-going story. Stephen is the first martyr by stoning and Philip baptizes a Eunuch. Can you imagine such nonsense as this?

And to this day, invisible Christians everywhere are exemplars of the Gospel message even though they hide in the deep recesses of the emerging Christian story. They are not the Joel Osteens or the Rick Warrens (as powerful as their ministries may be). The unqualified saints work quietly as the elect in the most appropriate times and places—the right times and places to proclaim that Jesus Christ is come to the glory of God the Father, because God gives the glory and we only reflect it. Dimly.

Amen.